Dark Fantasy
by RachaelEwe
Summary: Tate Langdon / OC - A girl on the brink of insanity, A mother addicted to cocaine, A therapist, and a house full of phantoms. Will the Murder House destroy their already broken family?
1. Chapter 1

The smell of semen and sweat invades my nostrils as I enter my bedroom.

I feel the rage boiling over, blinding me.

I throw down my backpack and leave the room, storming off down the hallway throwing open each door along my path. I find what I'm searching for standing half naked in the bathroom in a skimpy silk robe, her hair tangled from the events that have taken place shortly before my arrival.

"_You sick fuck_!"

She doesn't even glance up at me, her eyes focused on the blonde reflection smirking back at her.

"_Really mom?_ _In my bed!_ _You've gone too far this time_…" I shout, feeling my body quiver with rage.

I look upon her in utter disgust.

"_You make me sick_."

I want an answer, a reaction, some sort of reconciliation for the offence.

I want her to care about my feelings, care what her eldest daughter thinks of her.

I want normalcy in a sea of insanity.

"_You're just jealous you haven't got a nice cock to fuck like I do_."

My mother grins, turning to look upon my shocked face with a giggle of satisfaction.

"_You envy me Haley, you wish you could get as much dick as I do, wish the men stared at you in lust, wish you were bold like me_, _sexy"_

She taunts, her eyes fluttering shut as her body sways, she has to clutch the sink to steady herself.

"_You are pathetic. Look at yourself, what are you fucked up on now? Cocaine again_?" I ask, grabbing her arm forcefully when she looks away from my gaze.

"_Don't disrespect me, you owe me your attention after cumming all over my bed_." I snap and suddenly a slender hand has snaked itself around my windpipe, gripping tightly enough that I choke out. I wrap my hands around hers, latched onto my throat and thrash until I am finally able to push her off of me. She crumbles to the porcelain tiles below us, a trickle of blood coming from her forehead, she must have hit the tub on the way back down to earth.

I feel no remorse.

"_You're washing my bedding_."

I state coldly, before storming downstairs and out the front door desperate to get far away from this shit hole.

* * *

_ 12 months later_

I look over at my mother from the passenger seat of our old Ford Taurus.

Her hair is pulled up in a neatly curled ponytail a think layer of hairsprayed bangs falling into her lashes. The look is a mix of 50's housewife and 80's rockstar.

She's wearing a floral print maxi skirt with a loose white tank top, she looks good, like summer.

I haven't seen her in anything but sweatpants and baggy t-shirts in so long I forgot how beautiful she is when she's clean.

This is the woman I use to admire when I was a little girl, soft and feminine.

The purple bags are gone from beneath her eyes and replaced with crowsfeet the only sign of age and stress that remain under her powder foundation.

"I'm excited." I confess, looking out the window at the passing Victorian homes, all blurs of green and tan.

"I've always wanted to move out west, you know how much I hate the cold of winter." My mom replies with a smile, I can tell she is genuinely happy. I haven't seen her happy in so long…

"I'm going to miss the snow, and pine trees" I frown causing her face to scrunch up in disgust.

"Not me." She declares with the shake of her head, slowing down the car as we park behind an orange and white moving truck.

"Home sweet home, I told you I'd find us a house one day." My mom brags lightly, I allow her to be proud of herself for now, she's earned it.

"It's bigger in person, a little over the top for two people…how can we afford this?" I ask, shutting the car door and turning back to face her.

She walks around the car to join me at the curb.

"It's been reduced due to the economy, the housing market is getting desperate, nobodies buying right now." My mom explains, but I sense there is something she is keeping from me. I know when she's lying to me, drug addicts are not known for their honesty.

"I have a surprise for you…I've met someone in rehab, he's a therapist actually, he's helped me a lot this year. He's the one that inspired me to break my old habits." My mom comes clean and I feel my heart twist in pain.

"I thought your children inspired you-"

"Now don't get all emotional on me Haley, of course you and your sister, after I lost her I knew I had to get myself together, Joel just made the road to recovery more enjoyable. Here, I'd like you to meet the man who changed my life." My mom smiles, tugging on my arm and dragging me towards a man emerging from a sleek black Audi.

"Joel! I'd like you to finally meet my daughter, Haley." This Joel guy looks pretty average as I take in his appearance.

Receding hairline.

Salt and pepper hair.

A California tan.

Bright blue eyes behind a pair of modern spectacles..

He looks intelligent, like a man with a masters degree should, but a little boring, too normal to be my moms newest lover considering she prefers men in their 20's who ride motorcycles and shoot up heroine.

"It's great to finally meet you, your mother talks about you often, she loves you very much." Joel smiles, extending a hand.

I take it being polite, thankful my mom is finally dating a man her age.

"It's nice to meet you too." I reply, letting go of his hand as we both turn to face my mother desperate to break the awkwardness.

"Joel bought us this home, he will be living with us." My mom grins nervously, sensing I will not react well to this new piece of information. My eyes widen in surprise, "Isn't it a bit soon?" I state, feeling as if this is all some sick joke. "We've known each other for a whole year." My mother frowns, "I know you've just met him, but we are madly in love and plan on getting married soon-"

"Married? Wow-."

I feel my chest collapsing in on me and suddenly it's hard to breathe.

"I need some air."

"But we're already outside." I hear my mother's voice, confused.

I walk into the house, and am relieved by the sudden chill in the air that greets my hot skin. I let out a deep breathe and walk up the stairs.

"Is this your bedroom set?" A mover asks me, as he and another man hold up my black dresser from Ikea. I nod, "Where would you like us to put it?" He asks, sweat dripping from his brow. I walk down the hall, letting my instinct guide me until I reach a large bedroom, away from the others. "In here." I gesture, moving so they can pass by me freely.

It feels even colder in my new bedroom than the rest of the house and I am thankful for this. I flop down on my bare mattress lying on the wooden floor and close my eyes for a moment trying to escape my racing thoughts.

I hear footsteps and open my eyes to see the movers setting down one last box before closing my door behind them giving me privacy.

I don't feel any desire to unpack my things at the moment, the energy having been knocked out of me with my mother's surprise.

I feel like I'm overreacting, I mean I should be more positive about this.

"It could be worse." I whisper out loud, curling up on my side and resting my head on my right arm.

_At least she's not on drugs, at least he's not a thug, at least we have a house, at least my room is far away from theirs, so I won't hear them fucking_.

I shiver in disgust at the thought. I close my eyes again, just for a moment, just to relax.

I feel as if someone is hovering over me, watching me. My eyes snap open and I am met with a pile of cardboard boxes. I clutch my hands over my arms for warmth as a shiver goes down my spine. The cold air is no longer refreshing as my body temperature adjusts. I force my eyes closed again, too lazy to find a blanket and wanting nothing more than to escape my reality for a few more minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up.

Shadows fall across the walls from the fading sunlight of dusk. I've been asleep for a few hours.

I get up and flick on the light switch, I nearly scream when I notice a girl casually perched on my dresser.

"Who are you?" I demand, blinking the sleep from my eyes. She doesn't go away so I am not hallucinating.

"Who are you?" She counters, sliding off the dresser and crossing her arms over her chest. She is a few inches shorter than me and a year or two younger. She's dressed like an old lady in a long floral dress and mustard cardigan, a black hat atop her head, and grey tights shielding her ankles from view. She looks as if she has dressed this way intentionally, my brain thinks _thrift shop hipster_.

"I asked you first." I shoot back, not backing down as I move away from the wall.

"Violet, now get out of my room." She demands, her dirty blonde hair hanging in front of her face like drapes, narrowing my view of her glare.

"_You're room? Seriously who are you little girl_?" I growl, putting emphasis on the last two words in an attempt to unnerve her. I've succeeded in pissing off my guest as her glare hardens.

"_I'm dead, this is my house, my room. Now get out before I make you_." She declares, verging on spoiled brat territory.

"_Prove it_." I smirk, "if you're dead, do something, ghost like." I egg her on, my voice bored. I just want this kid to leave yet I'm intrigued by the undead.

"I'm not going to say _boo_." She snaps, and I can't help but smile at this.

"_I was expecting something more thrilling_." I admit with a soft chuckle.

"_Like what_?" She raises a brow.

"I dunno." I shrug. "_How did you die_?" I ask, walking forward and opening a box beside her. I pull out some books.

"_Blunt much_? _Suicide. Swallowed a bunch of pills_." She replies, opening a random box and examining a cropped graphic t-shirt.

"_That's lame_." I frown, expecting something a little less pathetic.

"_This shirt is lame_." She replies tossing aside a floral and lace tank top.

"_Says the girl wearing my grandmothers night gown_." I smirk at her glare. Something about our back and forth banter makes me grow fonder of the girl, I find it hard to dislike her even though we are being catty.

"_You read some weird books_." Violet states, moving on from my attire to my book collection. "_This book is psychotic_." She frowns in distaste, holding up _A Clockwork Orange._

I shrug, "_I like psychotic_." I admit.

She eyes me up, trying to read me. "_So what's your dark secret? Why'd you move here_, and you've never given me your name."

"Haley, we moved here because my moms fucking a doctor_, and if I told you my secrets I'd no longer be mysterious_." I smile at the strange look she's giving me.

"You're kind of like him. The boy who used to live here, have you heard about all the murders in this house? It's haunted." Violet's tone grows darker, more sinister in an obvious attempt to rattle me.

"Everywhere is haunted, care to tell me about this boy that I am so like?" I raise a brow, sliding a pillowcase over my pillow.

"His name is Tate Langdon, he's a psychopath and a rapist. He killed a bunch of kids at school; the police shot him down in this very bedroom. He died right where you're standing."

"_I'm shaking with fear_." I tease, fluffing out my comforter.

"_You should be scared, he's killed people in this house, after he's died. He could kill you tonight, as you sleep. Of course he'd probably rape you first_." Violet's eyes glisten with some sort of darkness.

"Ghosts can't rape people, let alone kill people. Ghosts are dead, nothing more than a mist, a whisper in your ear, a chill down your spine. _Harmless and pathetic_." I reply, not caring if I have offended my new friend, who's quickly beginning to overstay her welcome.

"_You'll see_." Violet glares and with the blink of an eye she's disappeared and I am left alone with the thick silence of solitude.

I finish unpacking my things and it doesn't take long for I don't own much. I feel that familiar feeling of being watched, I look up to see a boy standing in my doorframe.

"Hey!" I call after him, as he walks away from me and into the darkness of the hallway. I follow him.

I stand alone in the dark corridor, he's gone. I sigh, waiting a moment in hope he will reappear.

He doesn't.

"Haley, dinner's on the table!" My mom calls from downstairs.

I walk into the dining room, sitting across from my mother and Joel, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans sit before me along with a pitcher of lemonade. "Since when do we eat dinner _at the dinner table_?" I ask as I scoop potatoes onto my plate.

"S_ince we are a normal family and I am trying to be a good mother_, _you deserve that_." My mom smiles cutting into the meatloaf.

I am slightly taken back by her kindness.

"_Well_," I begin awkwardly, "I'll give you points for trying, these potatoes are awesome." I compliment.

"_Indeed, everything is delicious Judith_." Joel sucks ass, but he seems sincere so I don't call him out on it.

"_Judith_." I smirk, "_How classy_."

"Would you prefer to go by Judy?" Joel turns to my mother in confusion.

"_Judith is lovely_." My mom casts him a soft smile before leaning over and kissing his cheek.

I want to throw up at the sight of their affection.

"Is this fresh?" I ask in shock, taking a sip of lemonade.

"_Of course_." My mom replies as if she is Martha Stewart.

"Weird." I mumble.

"**_You're going to die_**."

Three faces turn to face a girl, who's pointing at my mother. I snort out in laughter, spilling lemonade down my front but I hardly care as I laugh harder at the sight of my moms horror struck face.

"_Hello_" I choke out, in between laughter. I wave in a friendly gesture.

"_Hi_, my names Addie." The girl turns to me with a smile.

"_It's a pleasure to meet you, why don't you sit down for dinner_?" I grin wider at the wide-eyed look my mother is casting me.

"_Ok_." Addie shrugs stepping forward, she sits next to me and I scoop her some potatoes with a slice of meatloaf.

"**_You're going to die_**." Addie states, looking at my mother and Joel and I can't help but laugh some more. It never get's old.

"_This girl is wonderful_." I smile, pouring our guest of honor a glass of fresh lemonade.

"_Adelaide? Where have you run off to_?" A blonde older woman appears in our dining room.

"_Who are you people_?" Joel finally states, standing up from his seat.

"I'm Constance, and this is my mongrel Addie, she has a stick up her ass about this house of yours."

"_Well you cannot just come barging into peoples homes, telling my fiancé she is going to die_." Joel glares angrily, trying so hard to remain calm.

"Oh lighten up Joel." I roll my eyes. "That's no way to treat my new best friend." I frown in mock disappointment.

I say goodbye to Addie and excuse myself from the table, leaving our neighbors for my mother to deal with.

As I walk towards my bedroom I catch sight of a blonde curly head of hair. I throw open my door and look at the boy from earlier, lounging on my bed, _Invisible Monsters_ in his hand. _How ironic._

"_Who the hell are you_?" I demand, not sure if the boy before me is alive or dead. I'll be more pissed off if he's alive so for his sake he better hope he's dead.

"_If you don't want strange people in your room you might want to try locking the door_." He smirks, setting down the book and standing up to face me head on. He is tall and muscular underneath his baggy yellow sweater. His dark brown eyes seem to look straight into my soul. I shiver.

"You're like Violet aren't you? _Dead_." I question, finding the courage to step forward from the safety of the open doorframe. Showing him he does not scare me.

"Interesting book." The boy ignores me, picking up the novel and caressing its spine.

"_What's your name_?" I switch topics grabbing my book from his hand and putting it away.

"Tate, and yes I'm dead. Does that scare you _Haley?_" He whispers against my earlobe as he snakes his way behind me. I dodge away from him, not liking our close proximity.

"_So…_ _you're the rapist pig_." I smirk.

Anger flashes on his face as his eyes darken. Fear causes my stomach to churn. He doesn't look so innocent anymore.

He's gone, I blink twice to make sure.

_Yes I'm afraid._


	3. Chapter 3

"_This rice paper is just awful, what was Vivien thinking_?"

"And look at this couch! It's _pleather_!"

I turn the corner into the living room and find the source of the conversation, two men a muscled blonde and a lanky brunette are currently frowning at our couch.

"_It's not your house anymore so quit bitching like a queen_." The blonde replies, lounging on the sofa and flicking on the TV.

"Hello." I state making my presence known causing both men to snap their heads in my direction.

"_Hello, please tell me where you purchased this heinous piece of furniture_?" The brunette demands, his demeanor reminds me of a peacock, it's beautiful feathers ruffled.

"IKEA, we got almost all the furniture from Joel, if you saw our old floral sofa you'd shit yourself." I shrug coming closer and taking a seat next to the blonde man, stealing the remote from his grip and finding a show to my liking.

"_Aren't you a bossy little thing_." The blonde remarks as he finds his way next to the brunette.

"Don't you want to know who we are?" The brunette asks, suddenly offended by my lack of a decent reaction to their presence.

"_I don't really care_." I reply bluntly, "_Considering your dead_."

"_Ouch that stung_." The brunette glares at me before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"_You better learn some manners, Chad has a temper, I wouldn't want you to get hurt_." The blonde mocks, disappearing from the room as well.

* * *

"You better get to sleep early tonight lovebug, you've got school in the morning!"

I nearly choke on my drink.

"_What?_" I bark angrily, looking between Joel and my mother demanding to know whose ridiculous idea this is.

"Joel says it's not normal for a teenage girl to be so antisocial, it could lead to depression and suicide. So I've decided you're going to take a few classes in person and the rest you can take online at home. You'll only be in school from 8am-11am. You'll be home for lunch." My mother explains in a matter of fact, no arguments tone.

"_That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard, taking online courses does not lead to suicide! Who the hell was dumb enough to give this idiot a degree_?" I growl, glaring daggers at my mother's lover who looks truly offended by my outburst.

"_If I don't like it I'm dropping out in January, I'll be legal_." I add referring to my 18th birthday.

"You are willing to be a high school drop out just because your mother wants you to make some new friends?" Joel asks incredibly. "_If you're shy you could talk to someone like myself, but of course not myself, but another_-"

"_You think she needs to see a shrink_?" My mother asks looking pale.

"_My life is none of your business_." I snap at Joel before turning to face my mother, I am standing now leaning over the table and probably looking as if I am about to murder them.

"_I'll go to those classes but I am not making friends, I refuse to be your normal perfect daughter especially when you've been such a piece of shit mom_."

"_You're mother is trying_-"

"_Shut the fuck up, I wasn't talking to you, mind your business_." I turn on Joel like a cobra, ready to strike, venom seeping from my fangs.

"_You may have everybody else fooled with your little recovery act but I'm not buying it, people do not change. You'll always be a pathetic junkie slut, you can't escape who you were born to be_."

"_How dare you talk to me like that you ungrateful bitch_!" My mother shrieks, throwing a glass of wine directly at my face, I shield it with my arms as it shatters against my skin. Crimson water trickles to the floor.

"Keep it coming mother! I'm use to the abuse!" I shout, letting out a cackle of a laugh.

"You're fucking insane!" She yells back, _ironic._

I just continue to laugh, looking down at the pristine white carpet turning brown with my blood.

"_If I need stitches, I'll make sure you need them too_." I threaten, my voice turning deadly calm and cold as ice. I exit the dining room and go straight to the bathroom to clean up my cuts.

* * *

"You're going to need stitches."

I turn away from the mix of water and blood running clockwise down the drain and focus my attention on Tate who is leaning in the doorframe, eyeing my bloody arms with a twinkle in his dark eyes.

_Does my blood excite him? Sick bastard. _

"I'm not going to the hospital, I don't feel like explaining…"

"Come with me."

Tate holds out a hand looking sincere, as if we are close friends and I should trust him.

I refuse his hand and walk past him, waiting for him in the hallway as I hold a powder blue towel up to my wounds.

"_Unless you know a doctor_?" I question and his face lights up with a mischievous smirk.

"Come on." He replies and I follow him back downstairs and to the basement door.

"Plan on murdering me down here?" I ask, half serious. He chuckles in response not easing my worry at all.

"Dr. Montgomery, you have a patient!" Tate shouts out into the darkness as I pull the chain on the light above us, bathing the room in an eerie energy efficient glow.

Tate has to call out a few more times before a man with rubber gloves and a blood stained doctors robe appears, huffing a piece of cloth.

"_Is he high_?" I ask in horror as Tate leads me to a chair that has now revealed itself in the center of the room. I notice the stirrups.

"_What kind of doctor is he_?" I turn to Tate, who is grinning in amusement.

"Didn't my wife give you a dressing gown to wear?" Dr. Montgomery asks.

"She's not here for that doc, she's here for a few stitches can you help her out?" Tate asks, pushing me gently towards the chair. I stand next to it, refusing to sit just yet.

"Sit down." Dr. Montgomery states, getting out his medical gear.

I sit down cautiously and glance over at Tate. He senses my unease and steps closer so that he is only inches away from me. He rests his hand gently on top of my own and I let him this time.

His hand is cold.

I shiver.

Dr. Montgomery removes the towel and I turn over my arms, letting him have access to the cuts. I lace my fingers in Tate's as he readjusts his hand and close my eyes, leaning my head back, letting out a deep breathe.

"This is going to hurt." Dr. Montgomery warns and I nod, bracing myself as best as I can. The needle is injected into my skin and the thread is pulled through. I grind my teeth squeezing Tate's hand and he squeezes back.

"_Just breathe, it will be over soon_." Tate whispers into my ear. I hold back the urge to scream as the pain becomes intolerable. "_You're almost done Haley_." Tate coos, his free hand stroking my hair in a comforting way that distracts me from the needle and thread. I turn into his arm, burying my face in the sleeve of his striped sweater as I feel my eyes watering in pain. I don't want the two ghosts to see me crying.

Dr. Montgomery finally finishes and pours alcohol on the stitched up cuts to prevent infection. I hiss in pain my entire body tensing up. My arms are wrapped in clean bandages and Tate helps me stand up out of the chair. I feel dizzy and weak.

"Can you walk?" Tate asks, a look of concern flashing across his features. I must look terrible.

I nod stubbornly, trying to shake away from his grip and be independent. My legs are shaking uncontrollably; I collapse halfway up the stairs.

"Let me help you." Tate demands his voice annoyed. He doesn't give me a chance to argue as he scoops me up easily, carrying me bridal style. I hate being vulnerable but I am thankful for his help, sucking up my pride and letting him carry me to my bedroom.

He lays me gently on the bed where I curl up on my side and close my heavy eyes. I feel Tate linger beside me for a moment then I can hear him turning to away to leave. I reach out my hand and grab a piece of his sweater he stops. I open my eyes enough to look up at him, a surprised look on his face as he looks down at my fist clutching onto him in need. He comes back to me, kneeling down so that our faces are at eye level and I let go of him.

"_Stay awhile_." I mumble letting my eyes drift closed. I feel the bed sink next to me as a strong arm snakes it's way across my chest. He pulls me back to him so that we a spooning each other. I feel safe in the intimate position. I let my body relax.

I fall asleep with a smile on my lips.


End file.
